A Room of Memories
by Madigirl
Summary: Searching through a collection of memorabilia, Methos finds a way to deal with the death of Silas.


The tall, angular man stood in the doorway of the darkened storeroom, hands deep in the pockets of his open trench coat. He had felt an almost irresistible pull to come , and he had traveled half way around the world to get here, but now that he had opened the door, he found that he could not step inside. Maybe some doors were just better kept shut. He had certainly tried to keep this one locked, but then the past had come storming in, and the door was blasted open. Memories were flooding in, and he had to find a way to close the door, or drown in the past.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped in and turned on the overhead light. The room a was jumble of long kept, and mostly forgotten, treasures, hidden under dusty sheets. Walking over to the nearest covered mound, he lifted the sheet, catching his breath at what he saw. A small wooden dog lay, out of place, atop a stack of boxes, as if thrown there by a bored and careless child. Gently, almost with reverence, the man pick up the little toy. His eyes widened, and slight smile found it's way to his careworn face, as he remembered.

"You made this, Silas?" Methos turned the small dog around in his hand, bemused by the intricate carving. He was surprised at the amount of detail. The look of happy anticipation on the dog's face was so real he half expected the toy to wag his tail. He chuckled as he realized the expression was almost the exact one worn by his big companion now, as he waited for a critique. "It's quite good."

Silas beamed as he waved away Methos's attempt to return the carving. "You keep it, brother. It's yours."

Methos nodded and put the dog in the leather pouch he wore at his waist. "I shall treasure it.", he said, simply, and was surprised to find that he meant it.

The man carefully put the little dog back in its place on top of the boxes and continued his explorations. In the center of the room, he found a small locked box with no markings to indicate what was inside. He placed it on the floor and sat down in front of it, crossed legged. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a key and opened the metal chest. Inside were coins of various types and some small pieces of jewelry. He picked up each item and examined it, slipping one or two into his pockets. At the bottom, he found a long, thin metal chain, interspersed with round, flat charms. Lifting the chain above his head, so that it hung down in front of him, twining on the floor, he gave it a shake and listened to the charms clink against the chain. He closed his eyes and began to sway to the music he could still hear in his head.

"She is beautiful, is she not, brother?" Methos opened his eyes to see Silas standing, entranced, as he watched the girl dancing on the sand, her jewelry flashing in the light of the fires. In truth, Methos had not been much interested in the dancer. She was just one of many he had seen over the years, no better than most. He had only joined the others out of a sense of obligation and had almost fallen asleep in the warmth of the night.

Methos yawned and rolled his head in an effort to wake up enough to stand and go to his tent. "Take her, if you find her pleasing, brother." he said, voice tinged with boredom.

"I can't do that." Silas seemed shocked by the suggestion. "She belongs to Kronos."

Methos shrugged. "We share everything." he said, quoting the leader of the horsemen.

Silas frowned and looked at the ground. Refusing to meet Methos's eyes, he said, "You do not believe that."

Methos reached for a nearby flask of wine, poured some in his cup and offered the flask to Silas. "We are all equals... brothers" he said with a shrug.

"Brothers, yes." said Silas, emphatically. "But not equals." He glanced at Methos to see how his words were being taken. Smiling, almost apologetically, he continued. "Kronos shares with you. Caspian and I share with each other." Then after a pause, "You, my brother, share with no one."

The man replaced the chain, closed the box and locked it, smiling at the irony of this action. Standing once more, he walked around the room, stopping now and again to peer under a sheet or to examine a parchment. Finally, the man stood in the middle of the room, amid the clutter of many lifetimes. He was trying to decide what to do next, when his attention was drawn to the corner of the room were a bundle, carefully wrapped, was propped against the wall. He made his way to this item, weaving around several piles of mementos. He picked it up and removed the coverings to reveal the sword that had been buried beneath.

It had been a good raid. This village had seemed small, but the inhabitants were obviously proficient traders. There was a variety of goods, some of great value. Methos sat in the hot tent, tallying the day's profits. His concentration was broken by a commotion just outside. Irritated, he stormed out of tent to find Silas, axe held menacingly in front of him, squaring off against Caspian. Behind him, two small children sat on the ground, hugging each other, too frightened even to scream.

"You will not take these two... brother." Silas growled.

Caspian, who's own weapon was drawn, tried to circle around the big man. "They are mine, you ox." he shouted. "I found them. I killed two men to get them. I intend to keep them." Darting behind Silas, Caspian grabbed one child by the arm and started to drag him away. The other child reached for his brother and began to scream.

Methos drew his own sword and stood between the two feuding men. "This is enough!" he shouted. "I have work to do, and I cannot begin to think with you two out here screaming louder than these two brats. Settle this now."

Caspian smiled. "Fine. I take this one. He can have the other for a pet, if he likes."

Caspian began to walk away when Silas grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him to the ground. Standing above him, axe poised to strike, Silas said, calmly, "I'll take them both. Agreed?" Caspian had no choice but to nod his head in assent. Silas smiled and offered Caspian his hand. He pulled him up and clasped him into a hug. "It is settled. In exchange, I will give you all else I am entitled to in this raid."

Gently taking the children by the hand, Silas led them to his own tent at the edge of the encampment. The next day, he road off with both children sitting in front of him on his horse. They were not with him on his return. Curious, Methos made some quiet inquiries. Silas had taken the children back to the village and given them to someone there to raise.

The man wrapped the sword once more and placed it in its spot in the corner. Quietly he walked back to the door. He was ready to leave. He had not found the peace that he had sought but he maybe he had found a way to live with the past. The man turned to leave, but then stopped. Stepping back into the room, he picked up the little wooden dog. Silas was not gone. He was with him. He would always be with him. Now, as then, he was more than a brother... he was a friend.


End file.
